Three AM
by L122yTorch
Summary: A traumatic day leaves Ziva to evaluate her relationship with Tony. Will she run away from what she discovers or run towards it?
1. Chapter 1

The night dragged on. The day replayed in violent flashes in Ziva's mind as she lay awake and stared at the window. In one swift movement Tony had saved her life today. Without one momentary thought from him, she wouldn't be lying here enveloped in her soft warm bed. She would be on a cold metal tray, underneath Ducky's hand, words of sorrow falling on her deaf ears. Stinging bright lights shining into empty eyes.

So many times she had danced with death. So many times she felt it's cold strong grip pulling her down. The worst being when she was held hostage overseas, her hope draining out of her like a siv, her fear swelling and screaming inside the quiet confines of a dirty room. 'This is it,' she had thought to herself, which was the first and only moment she had consigned to failure. To the notion of death.

Such a dark place, with no air to breathe, nothing to grasp for but despair. Then the lights came on, the hood came off and there he was. Anthony DiNozzo sat across from her. Stunned, she almost couldn't believe that it was real. Entertaining the notion that perhaps her condition had conjured up some hallucination of relief. But she blinked, and blinked again and there he was, his blue green eyes crashing over her face. She wanted to scream, to laugh and cry and thank God all at the same time but her body decided to remain still.

The words 'He came back for me,' flashed like camera bulbs in her mind. Silence gave way to his voice, the dirty air now smelled of him, despair cracked and through it hope shone. It was like the world stopped and all she heard was her heartbeat and his breath.

Today time stood still too. As the hum of bullets filled the air and sporadic flashes filled the warehouse, time stood still. Then silence washed over the area as peace settled into the scene of violence. It was over, or so she thought. She looked to her right and saw Tony, dirty and tired, but Tony. But his face changed, his eyes grew black with fear, his body bolted out of the stillness and flew towards her. And in an instant she felt the weight of his body, the coolness of the concrete beneath her, and hot liquid running down to the floor. The room rocked around her, Gibbs and McGee were shooting the unexpected remaining assailant.

What grazed his shoulder was meant for her heart.

It seemed that whenever the world was shattering around her, there he was. Standing in the tumult, hand outstretched, offering her a way to the other side.

The bullet grazed his shoulder, not even a bad wound. Everyone was okay and she tried to collapse inside her mind and reach her dreams. But all she could see was the rain pounding on her window and Tony's face alit with fear. His soothing blue eyes melting into fire, the feeling of his arms around her, absorbing the shock of they're fall. When she opened her eyes, she saw his face. When she breathed in she smelled fire and blood. In the silence, echoes of gunfire rang out in her mind. She knew her dreams would be laced with nightmares, so she sat up in bed.

The moon's light splayed across her form, catching the crease in her brow and traveling to her lips that were parted but said nothing. A deep sigh escaped through the quiet as she looked around the room. Tony always broke through the darkness, always brought her to a place within herself that she couldn't reach with anyone else. What if he had died today? Because of her.

The silence seemed to reach out of her dark walls and strangle her peace. She opened her eyes but no light appeared; his face wasn't in front of hers. But she could change that.

The ticking of the clock, the swinging of the fan blades, the darkness and silence was wrapping itself around her, digging into her with sharp edges. It had to stop; she had to move, to go.

Ziva's feet met the cold wood floor with a thud. She stood in place for a moment before reaching her clothes, her shoes, and her keys.

Freezing rain cascaded around her, then flew in the face of her car, and then trickled down the windshield as she sat in front of his apartment. Her hands loosened their stranglehold on the steering wheel and she swiftly turned the ignition off.

The echoes of her shoes sang down the silent hallway that led to his door. She stopped in front of it, tilting her head to one side and lifting a hand to the door. She breathed in the wood, felt it under her palm, hung her head and wondered. Maybe it was the days events, or the night's mind games but somehow, here she stood, at his door. Debating whether to run away or run inside. Whether or not she should push him away and detach for her own safety or rocket towards him. Before any of it could even process she heard the sound of her fist knocking on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

It seemed as though Ziva's heartbeat drowned out the rest of the world as she stood frozen still in front of Tony's door. He hadn't answered yet, it was late, there was still time to run; till time to turn about face and bolt out of the building. Just as she was seriously contemplating taking off the clank of metal locks could be heard shifting and the wood door opened.

There stood a baffled Tony, questioning eyes quickly shaking off their sleep and twisting into a look of panic. "Ziva, is everything okay, are you allright?" were the first words out of his mouth. "I am fine Tony," Ziva said, wringing her hands. "I just…I just couldn't sleep and…and I thought I'd stop by." "At nearly four in the morning?" he replied. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she said turning to go but feeling the grasp of a hot hand stop her. "It's fine Zee, come on in."

She brushed past him on her way into his apartment. With a yawn, Tony flipped on a few light, eyes squinting at the form that he could scarcely believe was in front of him.

He looked so much older. Deep bags nestled under those piercing eyes which were bloodshot. A five-o-clock shadow had turned into the start of a beard, every hair on his head was going in a different direction, and his body looked tired and bruised under the revealing light.

As much as Ziva tried to scan the apartment or even the floor her eyes were drawn to a massively bandaged and slinged shoulder. The scratches on his face burned with a red intensity, every scar he had ever received in the line of duty shone plainly on his bare chest.

Awkward silence filled the room as the two looked expectantly at one another. "Sorry I can't put on a shirt, the sling is in the way," Tony said as he took a seat on the couch and patted a hand on the seat next to him. Tony still wasn't sure if this were real or a dream. The weight shifting on the sofa assured him it was real. Her scent filled his immediate atmosphere, her dark eyes explored his face for some fractured sentence she could hold on to. But all she did was let out a deep sigh and stare past him.

"Ziva, what's on your mind?" Tony half whispered. "I was at home," she started, "trying to sleep, but I couldn't. And I just felt like I had to get out of there, and somehow I ended up here." "Why couldn't you sleep, rough day?" he chuckled. Finally her façade cracked into a wide smile. "Yea, something like that."

But the smile faded quickly, replaced with a controlled but concerned look. "You could have gotten seriously hurt today," she muttered under her breath. Tony's signature grin and chuckle erupted over his face, "oh, so you were worried about me?" "No," Ziva quipped back. "Admit it, you care about me," Tony said cocking his head to the right. "Maybe that's what's keeping you up. Maybe you care about me and you wish you didn't," he said seriously.

Silence ensued. With all of her training and all of her tact and couth and quick wit, Ziva could not sum up what she felt or thought. Either that or she refused to admit it to herself.

Tony drove her crazy. His actions were riddled with so many jokes and movie references and arrogant grins and immature pranks. So opposite of her, so laid back. But underneath the side show Tony there was a serious Tony. There was a Tony that had experienced pain and loss, one who was so intelligent, kind and selfless. Ziva knew that he'd go to the ends of the earth for her, he would die for her, and that's what scared her.

The silence that elapsed on her end began to strangle Tony. So badly he wanted to get inside her head, to know what she was feeling. "Talk to me," he said in a pleading tone that Ziva had rarely heard. But she just looked at him, struggling with her thoughts and stumbling over her words.

So he lifted his good hand from it's vice grip on the couch and softly put it flush on her cheek. "Today was rough," he whispered, "but I wouldn't have done anything different." "I know, and that's what scares me," Ziva replied. "What are you so afraid of Ziva?" Tony's cracking voice enquired as his eyes bore holes into hers. "You," she said barely audibly.

Suddenly her facial expression changed and she threw his hand from her face and stood up. Her back was to him for a moment, her hand at her mouth as if it were preparing the way for her burning words. "I shouldn't care if you get hurt," she spat. "I shouldn't give a damn if your work brings you to the brink of death. I shouldn't care, and I shouldn't be here," she nearly yelled as her face grew red with passion and embarrassment.

She reached for her coat, was headed towards the door when Tony's hand firmly gripped her arm and spun her around to face him. Ziva's startled and angered eyes met his for only a second before she felt his lips crashing down on hers. Her first reaction was to recoil out of his embrace but he held her close to him with every ounce of strength he had left. He wouldn't let her go, he couldn't let her go.

Every moment, every look she had given him, every time she touched him, every smile, and every look from her came flooding into his memory. He would say anything to see her smile, do anything to be in her path, destroy anything that threatened to hurt her. She was all he saw anymore.

But when she tore herself from him at last, every memory came crashing down and there he was, standing in reality, in his apartment, gasping for air, staring at his partner a few feet away from him. He dared to close the distance between them, she pulled at him like a magnet.

The look she saw on his face scared her. It was a look she had never seen before. One made up of fear and desperation and love and it came closer and closer until his hot breath could be felt rushing over her lips. "Rule twelve," was all she could manage to come up with to say. "Rules are made to be broken," he whispered back, his nearly black eyes pleading. "I need you to stay my partner, I need you in my life," she contested, "if this happens…" "if this happens, nothing has to change. Just be here Ziva, just stay here in this moment, stay here with me," he said in a cracked sentence resting his forehead on hers.

"I'm here Tony," she whispered back, bringing her hands to either side of his head, running her hands through his soft tousled hair. And hesitantly bringing her lips back to his. The words he had spoken, the way he felt beneath her hands, the way he smelled and tasted, captured and drowned her logic.

His hand pulled her against him once more, his kisses turning deep and executed with a feverish intensity. The heat coming off his body was electric, the passion in every move was overwhelming. A flood gate had opened and tomorrow be damned, all that mattered was this moment. This moment where years of want and unspoken words were coming to the surface.

Seeing Ziva half-naked on his bed, Tony could scarcely convince himself that this wasn't a dream. But her hand on his face is real, her warm wet kisses are real, this is no dream.

He removed the rest of her clothing, relishing in every inch of olive skin that tingled under his mouth. She was perfect in every way and she was here, in the flesh, her beating heart flying under his soft lips.

Gently she rolled him onto his back while she slipped off his boxers. Careful to avoid his injured arm she kissed him over every bruise and scar. Her hands and body making their way over every inch of him. Taking him into her warm wet mouth until he begged for her to stop. Normally she would have had fun slowly torturing him but all she wanted was to finally be with him.

Though frustrated by his limitations he found his way to her warm slick center and could have died right there. Everything felt so right, like her body was built to fit into his. Every kiss, every sound, every move bringing them closer to the edge until they could hold on no longer.

There was no tomorrow, no NCIS, no rules, there was just each other, a love that resonated through every action and every glance and every touch. A secret that they only partially knew they were keeping, buried so deep that they themselves almost couldn't find it.

But no place had ever felt so much like home to Ziva, she thought as her head rose and fell with Tony's chest. The rain had finally stopped, the room now dark, Ziva could once more hear her heartbeat in the silence of the night, but she now heard Tony's too.


End file.
